


i only thought of you

by makochiu



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Overwatch Recall, Reunions, a very mccree centric fic tbh. i never really wrote from his pov before so i did my best, some reminscing of bw (not much though) (also i spelt that wrong), the plot is like not the best most coherent thing but in my defense i have a cell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-19 02:41:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29619360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makochiu/pseuds/makochiu
Summary: Whilst on a stroll, Mccree encounters ghosts of his pasts, and decides to face his demons.
Relationships: Jesse McCree/Genji Shimada
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	i only thought of you

A wave of orange and pink cascaded the sky, reflected upon all in its sights. Contrary to the prior blue, hidden by dust that flowed in the wind and clouds of grey and white, such change was welcomed. Jesse sat down in the diner he frequented, its opening hours approaching their end. It's not like they'd kick their only business out anytime soon, as an omnic repeated its programmed cycle of cooking and serving. The sky, with its repetitive cycle, always served its use of tracking time, as long as you didn't watch it for too long. Occasionally, a sunset embraced everyone in a warm grasp, but most nights blue became black before anybody really noticed. All the stars had long since burnt out, allowing the lonely to become one with the darkened void. Sometimes Jesse wondered if those stars called for him, too. A prolonged stare towards the sky. A sigh escaped his lips rather than cigarette smoke. Everything remained still for a moment, though the ticking of the clock would not let such bliss remain for long. 

"I s'pose I can't stay the night, can I?" He mumbled, knowing the lack of response he'd receive. Nobody frequented this side of Texas, because if you completely ignored the crashed train that rendered the place isolated, the dreaded Deadlock Gang roamed free in these parts. They wouldn't dare return here after the humiliating defeat, Jesse reasoned to himself as he put his cigarette out on the table. This diner had no ashtrays, which meant cigarettes were put out on seats or the tables - there was this one time Jesse accidentally set fire to the seat and raised fear of an attack, when in truth he didn't realise the seats were flammable. A small chuckle escaped his lips as he rose from his seat, leaving change on a table none would check. 

Though reminiscing on the past is fun, if you do so for too long you may remain there forever. 

Your future does not wait for you to exit the land of dreams. 

"Thanks for the food. I got somewhere to be, though, so I can't exactly stay." He opened the door, closing it behind him slowly. With his metal hand, he lowered his hat to shield his eyes from the sun, and began walking towards it. In truth, he had nowhere to be and nobody to turn to, so he hoped to find somewhere on his walk. Visiting a haven of memories helped his clouded thoughts find sense, which is why he visited the diner… that, and the pie is to  _ die  _ for. Trust him, he nearly did so, one unfortunate evening. But that was an anecdote for another day, where there were ears willing to listen.

Often his anecdotes would go without a listener. Stories of old, of better days.where worries were nought. These days, all he seemed to know were worries. His hand always rested on his gun, just in case. Hostility, such an unattractive trait in practice, became something to rely on when people got too close. 

Make others turn their backs on you before you do the same, leaving yourself an open target to their bullets. Whether those bullets stayed true to their name or took the form of words depended on your opponent. They always left a scar, however. Jesse looked up at the sky, squinting slightly as his skin absorbed the heat, and then down at his metallic arm. Scars, huh? He had plenty of those, accumulating them ever since childhood. Violence always enticed him more than boredom, for the exhilarating thrill of adrenaline decided many of his decisions. And his aging body always paid the price. 

At least he hadn’t lost too much.

Unlike someone of his past, who his heart ached for.

His relationship with Genji Shimada could not be described with a simple good or bad. Blackwatch, however, could be described as such: bad. A place where broken souls found each other, hoping to amend themselves alongside their kind, yet all they did was destroy themselves further. When Jesse thought of Blackwatch, he thought of people he failed to save, people who he watched destroy those he cared for in plain sight, and then he thought of Genji. Being in the same group, same sort of work, the two naturally got along… Well, that’s what Jesse would lie and say. In truth, Genji tried to push Jesse away, often physically, to avoid anyone breaching his carefully drawn up walls. After such a betrayal from his family, it was to be expected. 

Yet, Jesse would catch Genji looking across the room at him, softly sighing as his eyes relaxed. He would hear Genji talk about what happened to him, in greater detail than any other ears would hear. He would have Genji jump in the way of bullets and blades to defend Jesse, scoffing at the other as he mumbled an excuse.

He cared, in his own way. As did Jesse, only he cared very openly. 

He wondered if Genji thought of him during the lonely hours too, though he doubted it. A short lived spark that had long since been put out? Only a fool would ponder over such a relic of the past. Well, Jesse seemed to be a fool. A lovestruck one, the type you roll your eyes and sigh at.

And really, it’s laughable.

He rejected Overwatch, sending another in place of him, to continue leading his current life of misery. He told Echo they needed her, rather than him. In reality, fears of ghosts from his past kept him stuck in this endless loop. The Overwatch he knew was dead. Faces he expected to see died in a fire long, long ago. Gabriel Reyes. Jack Morrison. Ana Amari. All names etched onto a gravestone, rather than names he’d call to greet. Those who survived he doubted to have taken up the call.

Well, Lena would have done so. Her love for justice and thrill mirrored Jesse’s, it’s why they started speaking in the first place. Lena had promised to take him out for a drink in London one day… he hoped she remembered her promise.

But everyone else, why would they bother? It would just be to revisit a graveyard of memories. Most of those memories weren’t even cherishable, they were of woe and dismay. Such is what Overwatch brought to him, after Deadlock nailed his face to a dartboard. Maybe it wasn’t all so bad. But when your light and sources of hope are gone, you can’t help but only see in darkness.

He was Jesse Mccree, the outlaw spoken of on wanted posters. Maybe Overwatch could be a roof over his head, if only for a short time period; anything beats sleeping on the streets and running from the public eye. Yet, wouldn’t it bring more attention to him and his position? Those with intent to kill him would be at the watchpoints door within 24 hours. No, he didn’t want to return. Maybe someday, if the haunting stopped. But not now. He opened his eyes again. Night became day, the stars had long since faded from the sky. They had attempted to recruit him in their lonely dance, spinning around him hypnotically. He hadn’t realised he’d fallen asleep, curled up on a bench, hiding his face with his hat. A few sufficient hours, energising him for another day of living in shadows. 

A sudden explosion in the distance seemed to prove otherwise.

Dust and blood blew towards him, as he stumbled off of the bench in his startled state and readjusted his hat. As he had only just awoken, his vision blurred, the oncoming dust not helping his shock-induced blindness at all. After repeated blinks, and his brain attempting to make sense of this situation, he allowed his impulses to guide him. His serape violently thrashed in the wind as he sprinted towards the location, hearing distant screams and gunshots growing louder as he grew closer. Pausing to catch his breath and to grab his gun, he hid behind a wall and quickly checked if anyone else had approached this scene.

What he did not expect is to see Overwatch challenging a gang of omnics… just his luck, isn’t it? His dream must have summoned them, he reasoned. Before he had time to consider assisting or fleeing, a body flung in his general direction, and his legs acted before his brain did. He rolled, catching the startled person in his arms and as such cushioning their landing - well, somewhat. 

“Jesse Mccree?!” The unnaturally hoarse voice was one he recognised within moments: Angela Ziegler. Of course she took up Overwatch’s offer too. Another person ran over to check what happened, one Jesse did not recognise. He almost slid over as he looked at the scene in front of him with a sort of confused smile. His dreadlocks faded into green, with what seemed to be speakers at the end of them, with a height making him seem miniscule to both Jesse and Angela. Obviously that did not count at the angle Jesse sat, for at that moment he lay sprawled out on the floor with a woman he hadn’t seen in years in his arms.

“Am I missin’ something here? Do you know this guy, Mercy?” The man mumbled, offering a hand up to Angela, which she graciously took. She placed her free hand on her chest, gripping the material, as she stared back at Jesse with a raised brow. 

“Well, ain’t I even gonna get a thank you…?” Jesse mumbled, pushing himself up to a standing position. Despite the obvious confusion wrinkling her face, Angela lightened up slightly and chuckled, only confusing the other man who flicked his eyes between the two. “Look, Ang, I’m as confused as you. I jus’ wanted to have a nice walk in peace and suddenly you’re flying in my arms.”

“The grip on your gun says otherwise, Jesse.” Another crash in the distance caused all their heads to rise, looking at the falling Talon omnics. From what Jesse could see amidst the dust, Lena,as per her usual behaviour, had begun jumping around and cheering, as Winston clapped. Reinhardt seemed to be there - Jesse wondered how he didn’t expect his presence - alongside at least three more faces he had never seen prior to today. “I suppose you arrived at a good time. Come on, you may as well say hello.” 

“Mercy, I still have no idea who this guy even is? Help me out, maybe?” Angela had already walked off, leaving Jesse to stare at this man with his hand resting on his chin. “Well this is awkward.”

“Howdy! ‘M Jesse Mccree, surprised you didn’t hear Angie scream it. And, you are…?” Jesse outstretched his hand to the shorter man, who took and shook it graciously.

“Lúcio Correia dos Santos. Nice to meet ya, Jesse. Are you an actual cowboy, or is it just for the aesthetic?” Jesse could have sworn he recognised that name. Maybe he had been on the news somewhere before, he wasn’t sure.

“Trust me, I’m not even sure m’self some days.” As he looked up again, titling his hat to shield his eyes from the sun, he realised all eyes were on him. Eyes he didn’t recognise and eyes he thought he’d never see again. Yet, they all looked at him in the same way; mystique and awe. With slow and measured steps towards the big group, years of overthinking begging him to go slow, he stood before them all and folded his arms. “It’s been a while, ain’t it? Want me to reintroduce m’self?” With that, at least three people lunged towards him in a hug. Tons of jumbled words escaped their lips, none of which Jesse recognised. He didn’t care, he returned their hug and laughed.

Turns out, the only one haunting him was himself.

Eventually, after the hype died down and everyone began to relax and chat amongst themselves, Jesse looked around. 

He knew Genji had not gone far. But where had he chosen to hide? Jesse wandered past the group, looking around in a hopeless hunt. After a few seconds, that seemed like hours to him, he felt a faint tap on his back and whipped his head around in an instant. Facing him was Genji Shimada, who glowed in the sunlight. Though he had completely masked his face now, contrary to the mouth mask of Blackwatch, Jesse could see how he shone, brighter than any star. Jesse believed Genji had to be smiling just as widely as him. 

“Jesse.” His face became overwhelmed with heat at the mention of his name, which rolled off Genji’s tongue so smoothly.

“Genji.” His chest fizzed with excitement, and his joy could not be masked.

Instantly, Genji tackled him into a hug with trembling arms.

“I can’t believe you! You disappear for years without any trace, and you reject the call because ‘we would never need you’, and then one day you just show up?! Out of the blue?!” Genji screamed into Jesse’s chest, his hug only growing tighter. “I needed you, Jesse. I missed you so  _ fucking _ much.” With tears brimming in the corners of his eyes, he melted into Genji’s hug and sighed deeply.

“I missed ya too, honey. You seem to be much better now.” They pulled away from each other, despite it being obvious neither wanted to do so, and stared into each other’s eyes.

“I went on an enlightening trip. Nepal. I met the Shambali, more specifically Tekhartha Zenyatta. He helped me learn to love myself again.” Though these words were new to Jesse, he knew they would be part of the stories Genji would tell if he were to stay.

“I’m glad you love yourself, darlin’. You always were worth all the love in the world.” He unconsciously tucked his metal arm behind his back, though Genji’s perceptiveness remained unimpeachable.

“Don’t think you can hide that from me, Jesse. I’d like to know how, because I specifically told you so many times in Blackwatch not to do something like this, and the first thing I see i-”

“You remember our Blackwatch interactions?” Jesse asked, his voice cracking from adoration.

“Of course I do. You were the only one to treat me like a human, the only one to treat me with kindness.” Jesse’s eyes lowered slightly, as he remembered how inhuman Genji was treated. He had voiced how he didn’t feel human anymore, and everyone in Blackwatch used that to their advantage to manipulate him into being a killing machine. He never even heard people call Genji his name, only ‘the Shimada’ or ‘the ninja’. Genji had voiced his hatred of his familial name at that time, too. It had always weighed upon Jesse’s heart, how he felt his companionship did nothing but cause further annoyance. It made him happy, knowing the opposite was true.

“You deserved all the kindness I gave ya and more, darlin’.” Without thinking, Jesse kissed the top of Genji’s head, making them both freeze in shock for just a moment before Genji erupted into giggles. Raising a hand near Jesse’s face as he turned his body away from him, Jesse feared rejection. 

What greeted him instead was a soft smile, with gentle green eyes. The scars of Blackwatch, though still prominent across Genji’s face, now looked aged and softer. Everything about him, compared to what Jesse remembered of Genji, was softer. Warmer. Enticing. Drew him in and made him want to kiss every scar on his face, kissing away the memories and replacing them with tender intimacy. He couldn’t do that at the moment, of course, as he was pretty sure he’d already ruined everything by accidentally kissing the top of his head. Genji seemed to have dyed his hair again since he’d recovered, as tints of green flowed through his roots. Other than that, his hair remained the same black shade. 

“You never did see my full face in Blackwatch, did you?”

“Nah… Yer beautiful, Genj.”

“Thank you. You are quite beautiful yourself, Jesse.” Slightly standing on his tiptoes, Genji softly kissed Jesse’s cheek, giggling at the way Jesse’s beard tickled his face. “So, I have a suggestion.”

“You’re gonna ask me to stay, ain’t ya?”

“Nooooo, why would I  _ ever _ ask you that?” Genji drew out the word no, emphasizing his sarcasm in case the reception failed. “Please, please stay.”

“I’ll stay. I’m not leavin’ you again.” Genji wrapped his arms around Jesse once more, trying to hide his arising blush.

This time, the only option Genji had was to pursue Jesse, and to win his heart all over again. The yearning of eight years had begun to take a toll on him, after all, and many asked about his lost lover… oh, how he had missed Jesse Mccree. And he knew the feelings were mutual.

**Author's Note:**

> MCGENJI STANS HOW WE FEELING, KNOWING THAT THEIR REUNION IS BASICALLY CANON?!?!!? i kid you not, i wrote this fic like 2 days before blizzcon, with no intention to post (to the three who saw this as soon as i wrote it: hi i think of u guys everytime i write these silly little guys, mwah), AND THE FACT THAT MCCREE IS CANONICALLY IN OW AGAIN I JUST???? im literally a prophet. i feel like my psychic powers are starting to develop, stop me now before its too late.......  
> tumblr: tousakamis/makochiu  
> twitter: ASA1KVS


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